‘Even so. I need your help, Bishop. There is a man in the Tower who has sworn to stand with me.’
The Bishop raised his eyebrows and waited.
‘Roger de Mortimer.’
Adam nodded. ‘A strong man, indeed. He ruled the Marcher lands with his uncle and he was as a king there they say.’
‘His uncle has perished in his prison. His nephew still lives.. He is young and vigorous. He would stand with us.’
‘You have tested him?’
The Queen smiled slowly: ‘Aye, my lord Bishop, I have tested him.’
‘Yes,’ said the Bishop, ‘a strong man. He could rouse the Marcher country.’
‘He must first escape.’
‘From the Tower! I’ll swear he is most rigorously guarded.’
‘He has friends.’
‘Who, my lady?’
‘The Sub-lieutenant, Gerard Alspaye.’
‘That is good. He could do much.’
‘My lord Bishop what could you do?’
‘Nothing from inside the Tower. Outside. I could have horses waiting at an agreed spot. I could have a boat waiting to take him across the river to that spot and another at the coast.’
‘And would you do this, my lord?’
‘I would do my best for you, my lady.’
‘I thank you with all my heart.’
‘If we can rid this country of its evil influences the whole of England will thank you with all their hearts.’
‘I can and will with the help of God and my very good friends.’
‘Then the first thing is to get Mortimer from the Tower. What will he do in France?’
‘Go to my brother. Let him know how I am held here. Get help from him. I shall try to join him― if that is possible. But I must have my son Edward with me.’
‘I see. It would mean civil war.’
‘If the King can find any to stand with him.’
‘There will be some I doubt not. The Despensers will be there and mistake not behind the pretty face is a wily mind.’
‘I know it well. But first we must free Mortimer. I pin my hopes on him. My lord Bishop I rely on you to provide what we shall need once Mortimer is free of the Tower.’
‘Let the rest be arranged from within and then we must be sure that we work together.’
‘God’s blessings on you, Bishop. You are a good friend to me and to your country.’
With God’s help, my lady, I will serve you both until He sees fit to take me.’
She was satisfied. Her excitement was intense. All was going as she could wish.
* * *
There were whispered conversations in the darkness of the night. They were getting reckless. The need to be together obsessed them; as did the knowledge that soon they must be parted. Alspaye was getting anxious. It was possible to arrange these meetings but they must necessarily become increasingly dangerous as suspicions must inevitably arise. It might be feasible one night, or even two, to leave a door unlocked, a corridor unguarded, to make guards sleepy with wine. But these occasions were becoming too frequent.
‘We must not jeopardize the plan,’ said Mortimer.
‘Indeed we must not,’ agreed Isabella, ‘but when you are in France we shall no longer be together.’
‘But you must follow me. You must use all your skill to do so.’
‘I shall. I shall. You may rely on me.’
They embraced passionately; they talked earnestly; and they continued to meet.
Gerard de Alspaye was uneasy. What would happen to him, he wondered, when such an important prisoner as Roger de Mortimer escaped from the Tower? He would be blamed. His head would not be worth much he was sure.
There was only one course of action for him to pursue, said Isabella. When Mortimer went, he must go with him.
Alspaye’s spirits were considerably lightened at the prospect.
There were meetings with Adam outside. He had engaged the help of two rich Londoners, John de Gisors, and Richard de Bettoyne, who would provide the boat which would take Mortimer and Alspaye across the river and the horses which could carry them to the coast. They would see that these were waiting ready at the appointed places. Speed was essential and the fugitives must get to France immediately, for it would be dangerous for them to linger in England for even one day longer than they need. As soon as the disappearance was discovered the hue and cry would follow and even Edward would realize the danger of letting a man like Mortimer escape from his clutches.
‘Well, let it be soon,’ agreed the Queen, and she added that it was fortunate that summer had come.
Alspaye said: ‘On the night of the first of August the Tower guards always celebrate the feast of St Peter ad Vincula.’
‘On this occasion,’ Mortimer interrupted, ‘it should be a specially merry feast. We must make sure that the wine flows freely.’
‘I shall put two notorious imbibers in charge of my lord,’ went on Alspaye, ‘and shall see that they are well supplied with liquor. I’ll warrant it will not be long before we have them in a drunken stupor. That will give us an opportunity to make our preparations.’
Many plans had been discussed and discarded and they had come to the conclusion that the safest way was for Mortimer to escape by means of a rope ladder. He had, of course, to get out of his cell and although most of the guards would be drinking heavily there could be one or two abstainers and it was logical to suppose that on such an occasion they would be especially alert.
Mortimer’s dungeon was next to the kitchens and from these it was possible to get out onto a roof of an inner ward. This was where the rope ladder would come in. For several weeks Mortimer with the help of Alspaye had managed to loosen a portion of the stones in the wall. It was not difficult for Alspaye to say he wished to speak with the prisoner and dismiss the guards while he did so.
During the time they spent together the two men worked on the wall so that by the first of August it was a simple matter to lift out the stones which they had loosened and make a big enough hole for them to pass through.
They would then be in the kitchens where Alspaye must make sure that the servants were either carousing with their guards or too drunk to notice what was happening. From the kitchens they could reach one of the inner wards and there it was that they would need the rope ladder to take them into the outer ward and they could from there make their way to that spot on the river where the London merchants, John de Gisors and Richard de Bettoyne, would have a boat waiting.
They had gone over the plan in their minds, looking for possible defects. To be discovered would mean certain death for Mortimer and Alspaye. But they were determined they would succeed.
The Queen was perhaps the most anxious of the three. She had seen in Mortimer her great hope. Moreover she was passionately in love with him and to have found a man who was not only her lover but her saviour seemed miraculous to her.
She was terrified that something would happen to him.
The first of August dawned. She went along to the little church of St Peter ad Avincula on Tower Green and asked the saint’s help in this project.
During the morning Mortimer was allowed to walk in the garden and Alspaye dismissed the guards with instructions to wait by the palings and while he and Mortimer walked they ran through the details once more.
The Queen joined them.
‘I know I should not have come,’ she said, ‘but I had to. After tonight it will be long ere I see you both.’
‘We must make sure that it is not too long,’ said Mortimer. ‘I shall be unable to endure it. I shall find some way to escape to France.’
‘It would be better if it did not appear to be an escape,’ said Mortimer. ‘If you could come on some pretext and bring young Edward with you.’
‘I will do it. I will do it.’
They clasped hands. It was the nearest to an embrace.
She was amazed and delighted by Mortimer’s calm. He was a man of action and he could not help but be exhilar
ated at the prospect of escaping from imprisonment even though it would mean a temporary separation from the Queen. He had no doubts of the success of the venture.
Nor, when she was with him, had she.
They did not linger too long in the gardens. Alspaye escorted Mortimer back to his dungeon and in her apartments the Queen told her attendants that she wished to be alone. She was too tense for light conversation and she was afraid that her manner might betray something.
Throughout the Tower the festive spirit was apparent. St Peter ad Vincula was a very special saint and the warders and guards told each other it was only right that on this day he should be honoured.
Dusk fell. Now was the time. There were sound of revelry throughout the Tower. The Queen said she was pleased that the servants of the Tower should celebrate the occasion but she would retire early and rest.
She waited. Everything had been timed perfectly. She prayed that there might be no hitch. Alspaye had seen that those guards in the vicinity of Mortimer’s dungeon had been given a wine which was particularly potent; it had also been laced with some special herbs reputed to add to the soporific effect.
It would be soon now.
She visualized the scene in the dungeon. The guard at the door slumped on the floor. Alspaye and Mortimer removing the stone, slipping quietly through to the kitchens. Would there be a hitch there? Suppose one of the cooks was not completely drunk? Oh, but they would be. They, like the guards, had had their wine specially treated.
How much they owed Alspaye! This could never have been arranged without him. They had been clever. Help from within, help from without. It was certain to succeed.
Wrapping a concealing cloak about her she came out of her palace quarters and made her way to the inner ward.
There was no sign of them. Her heart seemed as though it would fail her. If anything went wrong she felt she would die, for if Mortimer were caught trying to escape there would be no hope for him.
Oh what a fool Edward was to have imprisoned him in the first place! Oh, but thank God for Edward’s folly! Anyone but Edward would have recognized Mortimer’s superb qualities and never have let him live. Oh thank God again and again for Edward’s folly.
A sound behind her. A movement. There they were. Relief flooded over her.
Safe! The most difficult part accomplished.
They saw her and Mortimer ran towards her. He had her in his arms.
‘Oh, gentle Mortimer,’ she cried, ‘if I could but come with you.’
Alspaye said: ‘There is no time to lose. At any moment they could discover we have gone.’
‘Where is the ladder?’ said Mortimer.
It had been her task to bring that to them. She produced it and Alspaye threw it over the wall.
‘Now, my lord Mortimer, you go first.’
‘Let me hold it for you,’ said the Queen. ‘Good-bye, dear gentle Mortimer.’
One last embrace. ‘To France and our meeting,’ he said. ‘Pray God it be soon.’
He was over. She looked down and saw him standing there safe on the other side of the wall.
It was Alspaye’s turn. In a few seconds he was standing beside Mortimer.
She threw down the rope and returned to her apartments to await the discovery of the missing captives..
* * *
It was not difficult to find their way to that spot where the boat was to be ready for them. The merchants had not failed them. It was there.
‘We have done it!’ cried Mortimer.
‘Not yet, my lord,’ replied Alspaye. ‘We have escaped from the Tower― no mean feat, I agree. But we cannot boast of our success until we are safe in France.’
Indeed they had good friends. The horses were waiting for them— fresh and ready for the journey, with seven men from Mortimer’s household attending them.
This was indeed good fortune.
‘My lord,’ said Alspaye, ‘you have friends who love you dearly.’
‘Or mayhap hate the Despensers,’ replied Mortimer. They rode through the night until they reached the coast of Hampshire.
Out at sea lay a ship. It was the one which would take them to France.
It was not difficult to hire a small boat.
Mortimer bade his men be cautious for by this time it might well be that his escape had been discovered and warning given to look out for anyone leaving for the Continent.
‘Tell them,’ he said, ‘that we want a small boat to go to the Isle of Wight.’
This was done, the boat procured and very soon it was skimming across the water.
Mortimer boarded the big ship. The Captain who had been waiting for him gave orders to sail as soon as the tide and winds were favourable.
Later that day Roger de Mortimer and Gerard de Alspaye landed in France.
As they drank wine in a riverside tavern and congratulated themselves on their good fortune, Mortimer said: ‘We have come so far. Now the real work begins.’
THE QUEEN PLOTS
EDWARD was in Lancashire when a messenger arrived from London with the news that Roger de Mortimer had escaped from the Tower.
A fury seized him. He realized at once that he should never have allowed this to happen. Oh what a stupid thing to have done! To have allowed Mortimer to keep his head.
It was because dear Hugh had not been with him at the time of Mortimer’s capture, and Mortimer had been in the Tower by the time Hugh was back. Hugh was so clever. He foresaw disaster. And now Mortimer was free!
Hugh came in to see him and was clearly perturbed by the news when he heard it.
‘Never mind, sweet lord, we need not fear him. We shall stand against him and all his Marcher barons.’
‘I know, Hugh, I know. But to think he was allowed to get away from the Tower. What could have happened?’
‘The feast of St Peter ad Vincula was it? You know what these people are.
Give them a chance to carouse― and they forget their duty.’
‘Someone should answer for this.’
‘They will, dear lord, they will.’
When they learned something of how the escape had taken place they were even more disturbed.
‘He could only have done it with help from within,’ declared Hugh.
‘Help from within and without!’ agreed the King. ‘It would appear we have enemies.’
Hugh smiled sadly. Enemies! They surrounded him and they were the King’s enemies because of him.
Never mind, the King was his very dear friend; he could not do enough for his beloved Hugh. They were together through the days and nights and Hugh and his father were becoming the richest men in England. It was so rewarding to have royal patronage and when that patronage grew out of a doting fondness then indeed a man was fortunate.
‘He will have gone to the Marcher country, I’ll swear,’ said Edward.
‘His home of course. That is where he will rally support.’
‘Let us plan a campaign to the Welsh coast. We’ll get him, Hugh, and this time it will not be a dungeon in the Tower for him.’
‘He is a handsome man, that Mortimer,’ mused Hugh, ‘but I doubt he will be so handsome without his head.’
Meanwhile Mortimer, having landed safely in Normandy, was on his way to Paris.
* * *
By great good fortune Isabella’s involvement in the escape of Mortimer did not occur to her husband. There had been some in the Tower who had seen the meeting between the pair and the Queen’s connection with Alspaye who was now branded a traitor as it was soon discovered that he had escaped with Mortimer. Adam of Orlton, too, was suspected as the outside influence who had helped to make the escape possible. No doubt it seemed incredible that Isabella should have taken a hand in the affair, and it was presumed to be merely a coin-cidence that she had happened to be in the Palace of the Tower at the time.
However her attitude towards the King had changed. She made it clear that she wanted no more intimacy with him. Not that he pressed that. It had only occu
rred because of the need to give the country heirs. They had stalwart Edward who was nearly thirteen years old and growing conscious of coming responsibilities.
They, will come sooner than you think, my son, thought Isabella grimly.
For the rest of the children she had little time to spare. That they were well and happy was all she wanted to know. Young Edward was her concern and she did make a point of being often with him.
Her great desire was to get to France, to join Mortimer, and to begin the plan of action which was to depose her husband.
She could tell herself that she had right on her side. The country was going from bad to worse. The Despensers were an evil influence. Edward and his hated favourites must go. Isabella visualized an ideal state of affairs with her and Mortimer ruling through young Edward.
She was beginning to build up a little coterie about her— all enemies of Despenser, all with the same grievances against the King, and since the Queen had suffered more humiliation than any through this unfortunate liaison, it was to her they were beginning to look. They all had one aim in common, to destroy the Despensers who, it was believed, were at the very heart of the King’s unworthy kingship— just as in the earlier years of his reign Gaveston had been.
Thomas Earl of Lancaster was remembered and it was beginning to be said that he had been wrongfully treated. He had been humiliated and beheaded in a manner very unseemly for one in his position. Stories about his goodness— which had little foundation in truth— were circulated about him. Isabella could scarcely believe her ears when she heard that he had been called a saint. It was not long before miracles were being said to be performed at his grave.
His brother Henry, now Earl of Lancaster, came to see the Queen and to tell her how much he understood her dislike of the Despensers.
It was significant. Henry of Lancaster— certainly not the fighter and leader his brother had been— was offering her his support. Even the King’s two half-brothers Thomas Earl of Norfolk and Edmund Earl of Kent came to see her and to pay her very special homage because they too were heartily tired of their brother’s preoccupation with the Despensers.
The Follies of the King Page 24
